


Murmuring Memories and Lyrical Lashings of Intent

by Kizenrai



Category: Original Work
Genre: Friends to Enemies, Gen, Introspection, Jealousy, Loneliness, Self-Reflection, Strained Friendships, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:35:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28097763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kizenrai/pseuds/Kizenrai
Summary: I just want to post my writings, be they ideas combined or just shorts so that I can get in the groove. Maybe poetry too. Not all of them will be complete.





	Murmuring Memories and Lyrical Lashings of Intent

**Author's Note:**

> So, this first one is something that in trying out, don't be afraid to let me know of things to improve on. This will be the first thing I've posted on here in years, might upload my first attempt on here eventually too. 
> 
> (this is like, my second attempt)
> 
> I'm kinda looking forward to seeing how I'll progress, here's to starting something interesting this 2020.
> 
> I have no beta reader right now, so don't be too surprised at mistakes and the like (I have some friends who probably would if I asked, but I'm too lazy)

I had always wondered, whether your smile was fake, if your laughter after a "joke" was intentionally meant to hurt. I stumbled, in one way or another, in everything I did. I could never find all the right words when I spoke, and I could trip over lint any day, and emotionally? I never seemed to find the right one for a moment... Laughter when I wanted to be angry, and tears when I wanted to cheer my victory to the sky.

I just struggled. 

Maybe that was intentional on some celestial beings agenda, or I'm looking too far to blame someone, anyone, for the things I didn't like about myself. 

Whatever the deal was, you and I didn't get along all that well, even if it seemed like it on the surface.

You and I are all smiles in front of others, and I wonder if there was a point in time when we would have gotten along? Certainly not anytime in the last year or 4.

I remember when we first met, young and so excitabe. You have definitely grown out of it, myself not so much. I am but a wick to your furnace, and I wonder if things would be different, if we had learned to stay friends, if we ever were that to begin with. 

I wish I learned to grow my flame, to mature in a way that warms people the way you do. I've since snicked out, and became wax, a congealant that gets in the way. Melted and only useful if remolded. Maybe, I was saveable, salvageable, then. I could have been made into a new candle, to hold another wick, another attempt. 

Maybe I would have went out again. 

I think I would have turned out so much more terrible had that happened.

Then again, I am terrible, so incredibly, awfully, terrible right now, and I can't see how much worse I could get. It may be my morals holding me back from certain, distasteful, things that I could have ended up doing. Mayhaps, if things had gone even further wrong, I would have fallen all the deeper into this lambasic hell I live now.

You shine so brightly, old friend, and I have become a dull lead to your gold. You are so coveted, up on your pedestal. Shimmering pearls gleam from your beaming face, and I simmer in my anger.

Why, after all this time, do you get to be there? After all I struggled, and floundered, I gain nothing but an ugly ache in my chest that yells to scratch and deface your perfect painting. You make me sick, and my stomach tears itself at the sight of you on the news, grainy as it used to be for me. It's clear now, so crystaline in showing your damned sparkling eyes. I have torn and scraped my way to my little patch of space.

The blood I had to spill, my own or otherwise, lead me here. Stained and snarling at those who come close. 

Even now, thinking of you causes my chest to concave in and make me want to scream. You pushed me, far past what I could handle a long time ago, and it broke me.

Take your picture perfect life out of my shattered frame, and move yourself on to a better place then this ramshackle of a place. Let me tear this town in two, the sooner you leave the better, lest you take this from me too. 

I have always wanted to burn like you did, and maybe watching this damned place become the remains of the embers of my sympathy be the final resting place of my leftover sanity.

I always wanted to be more than the wick we started as. 

But watching the smoke waft after the fire died always did fascinate me more.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this thing that I impulsively wrote to be able to post this. It didn't take me long, it's just a snippet, but don't be afraid to comment, I like those, even if it's just a smiley face. Please don't be afraid of letting me know what I should change.
> 
> ALSO, I will say this once again, I have not had anyone beta read this, and I likely won't for a lot of these at first.


End file.
